


Before the Fall

by dngrs_untld_hrdshps_unnmbrd



Category: Destiny (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Era, Drama & Romance, Early in Canon, F/M, M/M, Memories, Occasionally explicit, Slow Romance, Zavala x Guardian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2018-12-17 06:45:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11846130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dngrs_untld_hrdshps_unnmbrd/pseuds/dngrs_untld_hrdshps_unnmbrd
Summary: A Dead Orbit scavenger is resurrected as a Guardian hundreds of cycles after her death but can remember everything from her old life. While she struggles to understand why another new Guardian brings back memories of a time Zavala wishes he could forget.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a companion story to After the Fall but can be read as a standalone.
> 
> This fic is set during what I'll call the Early City Age, just before the Battle of Six Fronts, and the Late City Age, just before the Red Legion Attack in D2. Six Fronts was the first big battle to defend the Last City and marked a turning point in the way the City was run. (In Zavala's Origins trailer it's the battle he, Shaxx and Saladin are street-fighting in.)
> 
> At the time of the Battle of Six Fronts, the Last City was at the mercy of the Faction Wars, there was no Consensus and it seems the Vanguard didn't exist as it did today. The Wall had been built by the Titans. The Iron Lords were probably already dead so there was a power vacuum in the Last City.
> 
> One assumption I'm making is that the Exo Titan Saint-14 and Lord Saladin worked with the Speaker to govern the Last City, but in some sort of unofficial capacity. Saint-14 must have been in an important leadership role because after Six Fronts he vouches for the Warlock Osiris's elevation to Vanguard Leader.
> 
> Another assumption is that because Saladin mentored Zavala and Shaxx and the early days of the Last City were kind of YAY TITANS, Saladin brought his boys into important discussions and decisions. This is long before the rift between Saladin and Shaxx, which happened after Twilight Gap.
> 
> The Crucible was founded after Twilight Gap but as Guardians love to fight each other I've made up a thing called Skirmishes. Shaxx runs these and they function in a similar but scaled down way to the Crucible.
> 
> Tl;dr?
> 
> Early City Age = the City has a Wall and the Guardians are just starting to venture out beyond it
> 
> Late City Age = the setting of Destiny the game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a companion story to After the Fall but they can be read in either order. I wrote After the Fall first but Before the Fall is set prior. They both feature Piax and Andara, my OCs.

_Master Rahool, Late City Age_

The little silver Ghost lay silently on the table where the Cryptarch had left it. A Hunter had brought it in a few hours earlier along with a stack of engrams that she'd found on Mercury.

_Couldn't revive it. Looked like it had been there for years, almost buried by a broken Vex gateway. Think you can fix it?_

Now he had a few minutes to spare Rahool picked up the Ghost and examined it. Could he? Sometimes he performed maintenance on Ghosts that had received knocks on the battlefield, but they were more cosmetic adjustments. This Ghost could be beyond help, drained of Light and unable to seek out the Guardian it had once belonged to. He or she could be long dead, or perhaps the Ghost had never even found them.

There was a lot of gunk in its seams and Rahool worked at them with a thin silver tool. The Ghost was starting to look clean, but still very dead, when suddenly it lit up and made a whirring noise.

'Ah, so you're not dead. How long have you been sleeping?'

The Ghost began spinning urgently and a moment later shot out of his hands. Rahool watched it zoom across the courtyard and then over the Tower railings and out of sight.

He laid down his silver tool and smiled to himself. 'Goodbye, Little Light. Looks like you've got someplace to be.'

* * *

_Zavala, Early City Age_

Twilight was descending and the gates were being readied for closure. The Wall cast its long shadow over the Last City, a sprawling thing of low stone buildings and wooden huts. The Traveler hung in the sky, bright white and silent.

Zavala remembered when the Last City was merely a motley collection of tents and had no Wall to protect it. That they'd managed to cling on in those early days was a miracle. With the Wall to protect them and new Guardians arriving in the City almost every day they could only grow stronger. There was hard work ahead of them and there was hope, and he found himself welcoming both equally.

A pulse rifle in his hands and a stack of other weapons on a trestle table before him, Zavala watched the thin stream of Guardians returning from the Cosmodrome. Two Titans, laughing loudly with their helmets under their arms, greeted Zavala before heading for the Guardians' Hall behind him.

He'd be out there himself tomorrow but today he had duties for Saint-14, attending to the stockpile of new weapons that the Faction scavengers had traded with them. In the last few years they'd begun venturing outside the Wall, the Guardians clearing out enclaves of Fallen while the Factions looked for supplies.

A slight figure in black armour streaked past Zavala, pulled one of the Titans round and punched him in the face. He reeled, and blood began pouring down his chin. The scavenger started screaming at both of them.

'How could you? Do you even understand what you've done? We'll never be able to replace the tech that you –'

The bigger Titan, the one who hadn't been punched, narrowed his eyes and reached for his gun.

Zavala threw down the pulse rifle he was holding and lunged for the Guardian's arm. He didn't recognise this woman but she wore a Dead Orbit insignia on her chest plate. If they shot her she would stay fatally, permanently dead. There were already enough tensions between the Factions and the Guardians and the last thing the Speaker needed was a murdered scavenger.

'Hey. Hey. That's enough,' he called, trying to be heard over her screaming. But she wasn't listening to him and a crowd was gathering.

Turning to the bigger Titan he said, 'Go and report in to Saint-14. Both of you. Now.' The Titan with the bloodied lip needed some persuading but finally the two of them headed into the hall.

The woman tried to follow them, still shouting, but Zavala hooked an arm about her waist and pulled her back. 'No you don't. I want a word with you.'

She was like him, an Awoken, with knotted purple hair and dusty black armour. A bag was slung over her shoulders and inside he could see it was stuffed with Golden Age tech. Good tech. Things the City needed. There was an auto-rifle holstered on her back and a knife at her hip, though even in anger she hadn't drawn them. She didn't want to fight, she wanted to be heard.

'Want to tell me what that was about?' Over his shoulder he could sense onlookers, but ignored them.

The Awoken finally seemed to realise he was there and spoke in a tight voice, her fists clenching. 'I spent two hours clearing all the Fallen off a Warsat and those … those knuckleheads jumped in and destroyed it. I want to fucking kill them.'

A Warsat. They were precious to Dead Orbit and their mission to get a fleet off the ground. The Guardians needed them too if they were ever to reconnect a communications network. At the moment they were living blind and that was dangerous.

'It's a terrible waste. But things happen in the field –'

'They destroyed it on purpose.'

Zavala pressed his lips together. They wouldn't have. Would they? 'If that's true then it's unforgivable. I'm sorry.'

'It is true.'

 _Then I'm going to need to talk to Saint-14 and Saladin about this._  The chain of command between the Speaker and the Factions and Guardians was blurred with all groups feeling like they knew what was best for the City, but if Titans had screwed up then it was clear what needed to be done.

He reached for his datapad. 'One of the Hunters came back to the City with a suspected Warsat sighting yesterday. I know it won't make up for the time you spent on the other one, but it's something.'

It was quite a lot, actually. They could have swapped this intel with the factions for more weapons or tech.

She examined the coordinates, her expression tight but mollified. 'I know the place. Thank you.'

'Be careful. That place is infested with Fallen.'

But the young woman was already striding away, her hand tight around her bag strap. 'I can handle myself. You handle those numb-nuts.'

Zavala grimaced. Something to look forward to. If he had his way he'd send the two Titans who'd destroyed the Warsat with the scavenger to help her get the new one, but Saint-14 was wary of getting too involved with the Factions. They do their thing and we do ours, and keep our people strictly separate lest we start bleeding Guardians to their causes.

It was true that the Factions' aims were vastly different theirs, and each others, but they had to think in terms of the next few hundred cycles. Pushing back the Fallen from the Cosmodrome, getting airborne again and protecting this City was going to take everyone's efforts, no matter their loyalties.

He turned back to the pile of weapons and saw that the cluster of onlookers had dispersed except for an exceptionally large Titan and a Warlock in canary yellow robes. Shaxx and Lyssa the Lighthearted. Lyssa was looking at Zavala with the smallest of smiles on her lips.

Shaxx watched the scavenger disappear into a side street on the far side of the square. 'That was a good punch she threw. Shame she's fallen in with those scrounging bastards.'

Traveler's light, he was getting sick of this sort of talk. 'We need Dead Orbit. The supplies they bring in are helping the City get off the ground. We don't have time to scavenge ourselves.' And if the scavengers were willing to risk their one life in the Cosmodrome they deserved respect for that, at the very least.

'Not far enough off the ground for them though, is it?' Shaxx grunted. 'You handled her well.'

'I didn't handle her. I just did what needed to be done.' Zavala turned his attention back to the weapons. He'd finish up here and go and talk to Saint. No, he'd talk to Saladin first. His mentor always had something sensible to say. He wished the Iron Lord would lead the Titans instead of the Exo, but Saladin had said many times that he was an old wolf and didn't have it in him. Not anymore.

'I'm going to get something to eat if either of you need a break,' Lyssa announced.

Zavala pushed the pile of weapons to one side, sorting through them. Only two auto rifles, and in terrible condition. Later tonight he'd strip them back and see whether he could fix them.

'Zavala.'

There was an edge to Shaxx's voice and he looked up. 'What? Oh, goodbye Lyssa.'

The Sunsinger headed for the hall with a flick of her yellow robes, and Shaxx sighed. 'You are an ass sometimes.'

Three pulse rifles. Five sidearms. 'Am I?'

'Lyssa. She wants to get to know you better.'

He'd heard that before. Guardians wanted to get to know him into order to grill him about his fighting techniques. Or at least that's what it felt like. 'She's already bested me in the Skirmishes.'

The look of shock on the Titan's face was comical. 'She did? When?'

It had been about a year ago, and the Sunsinger had burned through him like he was nothing. When he finally felled her she'd leapt up again before he'd got his breath back and knocked his legs out from beneath him. Aiming an empty sidearm at his head she'd whispered 'pew, pew,' and he couldn't help but grin up at her.

'It didn't show on the tally. She was out of bullets.' But they knew, and ever since when she overheard him talking about the Skirmishes he thought he saw a secretive, pleased smile on her lips. But she hadn't told anyone, so neither had he. 'Shaxx, move. I want to get this finished.'

The larger Titan folded his arms and looked at his friend. 'I wasn't talking about the Skirmishes. Why is everything about fighting with you?'

'That's rich,' Zavala murmured at his datapad.

Shaxx grinned. 'I know how to have fun. And Lyssa wasn't thinking about besting you. Not in the Skirmishes at least.'

Zavala finally looked up. 'Then why did she …' But the knowing grin on Shaxx's face made him trail off. Oh, like that.

'Bald, blue and apparently pretty thick. I don't know why she's interested either, but I've never wasted much energy trying to understand women.' Shaxx clouted him on the shoulder and said as he walked away, 'Go and talk to her.'

Finally distracted from the pile of weapons Zavala looked toward the hall. Was he hungry?

He could eat.

He was just putting down his datapad when Osiris appeared across the square, the Warlock's long, thin figure upright and haughty. He walked past Zavala and entered the hall.

A cloud passed over Zavala's good mood and he suddenly remembered why he didn't see much of Lyssa. Everywhere she went her mentor seemed to be, crooning at her like she was a pet. Something about the man got Zavala's hackles up and he turned back to the weapons with a frown, finding that he wasn't hungry after all.

* * *

**You made it to the end, thank you! I hope you're enjoying it so far. Leave me a comment and let me know what you think. Huge thanks to littleshebear (find her on tumblr) for beta-ing and checking my lore.**


	2. Chapter 2

_Andara, Early City Age_

The northern quarter of the City was given over almost completely to Dead Orbit members and the streets were dark and treacherous after the sun had gone down. She kept a tight hold on her bag and its precious contents as she picked her way along lanes strewn with discarded tech and broken weapons. Rival Faction heavies liked to lurk in the shadows and she'd already lost enough that day.

That Warsat had been her ticket out of this dump. She could have exchanged the data it held for a crate of heavy ammo and used it to pay the rent on her own room for four months, upgrade her Sparrow and buy a new set of gauntlets. Instead those two brainless punching machines had destroyed it out of petty revenge.

_That's for brainwashing our buddy you cult bitch_ , one of them had called before they'd both jumped on their Sparrows and sped away.

Cult bitch? They'd thought she was from Future War Cult, the Faction who worshipped bits of tech and went on and on about the Darkness getting them all in the end so what's the point.

_I'm Dead Orbit you fuck-knuckles_ , she'd yelled after them, before racing for her own Sparrow and giving chase.

That Awoken Guardian had given her the possible coordinates for a new Warsat, though maybe it would turn out to be bogus. It wouldn't surprise her if he'd just been trying to get her off his back. Still, it was worth a look. She'd be at the gates at first light ready to head out in case he'd been generous enough to give the coordinates to anyone else.

When she shouldered into the room she shared with three fellow Dead Orbit scavengers she found one of them had dumped a bagful of greasy engine parts onto her bed, and she wanted to cry. Did they have to be so thoughtless? If she complained to them they'd only laugh at her.  _Who made you queen of the slums? Get over yourself, Andara._

Hurling her bag under her bed she grabbed a nutri-bar from under her pillow, yanked off her chest plate and gauntlets and went outside again. The night was warm and she swung up onto the wall and then onto the roof of the building.

It wasn't much of a perch, but the City lay spread before her, thousands of flickering lights and halo of the Traveler above, a blank, uncaring sentinel.

The City was filled with idiots like those two Titans, undead warriors who thought they were better than everyone else just because they couldn't die. Clinging to this planet like fungus. The other Factions weren't much better with their fanatical preaching and squabbling over people and territory and resources. It was getting downright dangerous in the City.

Even though her roommates drove her up the Wall she was thankful that she'd fallen in with the right Faction. When she'd come to the City as a refugee only Dead Orbit's message had made sense to her. We will not allow hope to wither on a dead Earth.

The Guardians and their City could go screw themselves. The sooner she got off this crappy planet the better.

* * *

_Zavala, Late City Age_

'What am I doing out here, Ikora?'

The Warlock smiled in her arch manner, and instead of replying turned Zavala to face the railings. She looked out across the City with him, breathed deep, and let it out in a long, slow exhale.

Oh, so that was it. Whenever Ikora felt he was working too hard she dragged him away from the Vanguard room to look at the view. He frowned at the Traveler. Was that a flicker he saw on its blank surface?

No. Just a trick of the light.

Ikora finished her breathing exercises and said, 'When was the last time you spoke to Lord Shaxx?'

'About thirty seconds ago. He said hello. I nodded.'

She gave him a wry look. 'Properly talked to him, I mean. You two haven't spent much time together lately.'

Zavala and Shaxx had gone to the Blustery Brew for a pint about a month ago. It had used to be the three of them who would go, he, Shaxx and Saladin, and he missed those days.

They'd shared an easy camaraderie. Shaxx and Saladin's fierce delight with every victory. With each other. There had been love, then. And his own -

But that was then, before Twilight Gap. Before Mare Ibrium. Before Lyssa.

Before Osiris.

It had been a hundred cycles since Twilight Gap had caused a rift between his two friends, but when he brought up Saladin a wall had slammed down behind Shaxx's eyes.  _Did he put you up to this? If Saladin wants to apologise he knows where I am._

It had never occurred to Shaxx that he might be the one who owed the apology. That Saladin was a scarred wolf, losing his first love, Lady Jolder, to SIVA and then his second, Shaxx, to obstinacy and betrayal.

'We've been busy.'

'Still, you-'

'You're clucking over me, Ikora. Stop clucking.'

Ikora cast her eyes at the sky. 'All right. How's Lord Saladin?'

He made a non-committal sound, and Ikora sighed. 'You think they would have made up by now. Twilight Gap was such a long time ago.'

They were still paying for their mistakes at Twilight Gap. Their power was not what it was. So many Guardians dead and the number arriving at the Tower not as steady as it used to be.

'Does it feel that long ago to you?' he asked.

'No. I suppose it doesn't.'

Zavala turned around so his back was to the City and he contemplated the Tower. This was what he did to relax. He liked to look at the Guardians in the courtyard coming in from the field with their weary but bright faces. The engrams being handed to Rahool. The antics of the Guardians waiting for their Fireteams. He missed being in the field, but leading the Vanguard and mentoring the Titans was his job now and it took up all of his time.

_Let the young ones be fierce and delighted. Like Saladin said, they were old wolves now._

Like she was a physical manifestation of the past, a young woman appeared, walking across the plaza in a daze and a Ghost trailing behind her. She was dressed in the sort of armour common among Dead Orbit long ago and had an antique rifle strapped to her shoulder.

Memories assaulted him. The attack. Fighting in the streets. Lyssa.

Ikora noticed that Zavala was staring and turned to look. 'Ah. A new arrival?'

Andara, that was her name. A new arrival? She hadn't had much love for the Guardians but the Traveler had seen fit to make her one of them. She'd been feisty and a good fighter, so would probably take well to this new life. Remembering all that had happened it was a good thing she wouldn't remember anything from that time.

'I know her. She was a Dead Orbit scavenger around the time of Six Fronts.'

This happened sometimes with the older Guardians. Someone they'd known long ago would be resurrected and it was always unsettling. Sometimes even upsetting if they'd been a friend. Because you couldn't tell them. That new Guardians couldn't remember their old life was a gift from the Traveler that had to be respected.

Zavala was about to go forward and meet her when Andara spotted him and headed his way. Before he could launch into his 'I know how confused you must feel but your travels are over and you're among friends now' speech, she spoke.

'Zavala? What the hell is going on? Where am I?'

He frowned, and then glanced at her Ghost. It must have given her his name. 'You're in the right place. Things probably seem strange right now, but you're a Guardian, and this is your home now.'

Andara's mouth fell open. 'Like hell I'm a Guardian. I'm a scavenger. You know that.'

There was that some distrustful look in her eyes that he recognised from long ago. But how did she remember her past? It wasn't possible.

At his elbow, Ikora murmured, 'Are you sure she's a new Guardian?'

If she'd been a Guardian back then they would have known, wouldn't they? Had she kept it secret all these years? But then why turn up now and pretend like she didn't know what was going on?

_She doesn't seem like she's pretending. That's the face of someone who has no idea where she is._

'You know my name. What's yours?'

She gave him an indignant look. 'You know my name. It's Andara.' She waved a hand at the City and the Tower. 'Now, do you want to tell me where the hell we are? Because I know one thing for certain. This isn't the Last City.'

* * *

**Thank you for reading! Please leave me a comment letting me know what you think *showers you in hadium flakes***


	3. Chapter 3

_Andara, Late City Age_

Andara gripped the rails and looked out over the Last City, her heart pounding. She was a Guardian? It couldn't be. She was dreaming. Had fallen and struck her head. It had to be one of those things, because the alternative was that she'd blinked and it was hundreds of cycles later. But looking out over a vista she didn't recognise from a Tower she'd never seen before she was starting to think it must be true.

She could feel Zavala and the woman in purple robes watching her. How was she supposed to get past this feeling, that everything had slid out of her control?

'I don't understand how you're not all mad. I think I'm going to be sick.'

Zavala's voice was gentle when he spoke, but she could hear his puzzlement. 'We don't remember our old lives. The fact that you can …' He frowned and glanced at his companion, but she looked as baffled as he did. '... is unprecedented.'

The thing that had been with her since she'd woken up drifted in silence around her left ear. 'Get away. What is this stupid thing and what am I supposed to do with it?'

The woman in purple robes had raised her eyebrows. 'Do with it? Your Ghost is what keeps you alive now. Did it not tell you this?'

'Tell me? It's supposed to talk?'

As Andara watched, her Ghost seemed to sort of blink, and then it shook itself like a wet dog. Was there something wrong with it? Was that why she could remember everything when she wasn't supposed to? Maybe the memory erasure had gone the wrong way and it had forgotten everything instead.

'Great, stuck in the future with a busted Ghost,' she muttered. Just her luck. She'd be at the bottom of the pile of Guardians just like she'd been the lowliest member of Dead Orbit.  _I wonder where Dead Orbit are now. Probably in a galaxy far, far away. Lucky bastards._

The robed woman spoke up, brisk now. 'How about we get you settled in? My name's Ikora and I'm part of the Vanguard and mentor to the Warlocks.'

'Sure, whatever. Looks like I'm stuck here.'

As she went with the woman she saw the barely suppressed disapproval on Zavala's face. What did he want, for her to jump for joy that she was a Guardian?

Fat freaking chance.

* * *

_Zavala, Early City Age_

An vivid orange explosion to his left made Zavala pull his Sparrow up. So far it had been a quiet patrol of the Cosmodrome, but at the bottom of the hill was pair of rusty shipping containers and a swarm of Fallen. When he saw a flash of yellow he kicked the vehicle into gear and raced down to the skirmish.

Lyssa was still fighting ferociously when he stopped twenty feet distant. He pulled off his helm and rested his forearms on the handlebars, watching her. She moved with fluid grace, long hair swinging and seeming to defy gravity as sunspots burst around her.

As she used Flame Shield on a pair of dregs she finally noticed she had an audience. 'This isn't a spectator sport, pretty boy.'

His head reared up. 'Pretty boy?'

Lyssa dove to the other end of the shipping containers and more sunspots exploded around her. Unhurried, and without getting off his sparrow, Zavala pulled a scout rifle off his back and began picking off Fallen one by one. Finally, the last one had dropped or been burned up by Lyssa.

Slowly she walked toward him, smoothing her tangled hair back from her face, a smile glimmering around her mouth. She had a very beautiful mouth, he noticed, and there was something flirtatious about her smile. Wasn't there?

She came up quite close to him on his right-hand side, her face just about on a level with his own. 'Nice of you to help. Eventually.'

'You seemed like you were handling things just fine. It was an impressive sight.'

She smiled wider. Yes, there was definitely something flirtatious about it.

'A girl doesn't like to do everything alone.'

He waited, curious what she might say next.

'What about the stern, serious Zavala? Does he like to do everything alone?'

'No. He doesn't.'

The silenced stretched between them, both of them smiling but neither seeming willing to press further into what the other might mean by  _things_  and  _alone_.

She twisted on her toes, blinked her long lashes at him and said, 'Well. I'll see you back at the City, then.'

As she turned away he reached out quickly and caught her hand, tugging her to him. 'Pretty boy?'

With her free hand she traced a forefinger from the bridge of his nose down to his mouth. Her touch was feather light on his lips.

'Yes,' she said softly, but there was no trace of smile on her face now.

As slowly as she had touched him, he put his arms around her waist and drew her to him. He kissed her, and as her arms went around his neck and her mouth opened to his, she sank down onto the Sparrow. She tasted of salt and sunshine and her mouth was as soft as it looked. She was very soft against his armour, too, and he pulled her closer to him.

Remembering where they were and disliking the thought of seeing her hurt even if it wasn't permanent, he broke the kiss. Her eyes were a little unfocused and she was breathing hard. 'Need a lift back to the City?'

Looking down at herself between his thighs, she asked, 'Side saddle, in your lap?'

'If you like.'

She kissed him again, laughing softly. 'I like it when you smile, serious man. You should do it more often.' Getting up she swung onto the back of the Sparrow and put her hands lightly on his waist.

Zavala pulled his helm back on and kicked the engine into life. As he accelerated Lyssa pressed herself closer and wrapped her arms around him, and he found he was smiling all the way back the gates.

* * *

_Andara, Late City Age_

Two days had passed in a whirl of new faces and odd, unfamiliar tasks. Ikora had coaxed strange powers out of her, sparkling purple light that she didn't understand. Sometimes it came on so strongly that it knocked her onto her backside.

The Warlock asked her careful questions as they worked together, and Andara knew she was trying to figure out why Andara had been resurrected with all her memories. Despite her prying, Andara liked her quiet, thoughtful patience.

She'd explained that there were three classes of Guardian. 'Titans feel a deep connection to the City and strive to protect it. Hunters seek to understand their enemies at close quarters. But Warlocks,' and here she smiled, 'only Warlocks understand true power.'

Andara's ears pricked up. Power? She'd never had any power in her life. 'Can I choose? I want to be a Warlock.'

The Vanguard mentor had looked at Andara, her head on one side. 'Yes, I think you do. I suppose then I should tell you about becoming a Voidwalker.'

Ikora and this strange elemental power she seemed to have were the only good things about being at the Tower. The other Guardians seemed too loud, too happy, too close-knit. How could they not feel how bizarre this all was?

As she looked out over the City on her third night, someone joined her at the rails. It was Zavala and he stood silently by her side, hands behind his back. His armour looked very heavy and impressive, so different to the simpler attire she'd known him in. He seemed graver, too, though he'd been a serious man before.

'So. Commander now, is it?' she asked, and he nodded. 'What happened to the other leaders? What happened to ... everyone?'

There were no familiar faces, which disturbed her. Not that she'd known many Guardians personally, but to recognise none of them? She remembered seeing Zavala with a woman sometimes, smiling as he kissed her on quiet streets of the City. Once or twice Andara stood in the shadows and watched them, feeling dirty about snooping but fascinated by the sight. The Warlock was beautiful, nearly as tall as he was with a great mass of dark hair hanging down her back. Envy had stolen through her, thick and ugly, thought it wasn't really about them or the kisses they shared. It was their happiness. All the Guardians and their precious Light.

'Hundreds of cycles have passed. Many things have happened.'

That sounded ominous. Maybe it wasn't all fun and fancy gear being a Guardian. She let out a gusty sigh. 'How I hated you all, and now here I am. One of you. Except I haven't been gifted with memory loss like the rest of you.'

'You remember how brave you were then.'

She slanted a look at him. He'd always been kind to her, even when she was a scavenger. 'Still died though.'  _Who was that beautiful woman in the yellow robes you used to kiss? Did she die, too?_

'We all do. A lot.' He frowned for a moment, looking at the Ghost hovering over her shoulder. 'What has happened to you still doesn't make any sense to me. Have you had your first death?'

She shook her head. 'No, I haven't been out in the field yet. Ikora's sending me with a Fireteam tomorrow. Wait, you think I'm not a Guardian?'

Zavala considered this for a moment. 'What's happened to you is –'

He thought she wasn't a Guardian? How dare he. She pulled a sidearm from its holster at her hip and held it up to her head.

He reached for her, horror transforming his face. 'Don't –'

There was an explosion in her ears and everything went white. Then suddenly she was on the ground staring up at Zavala while he glared at her, hands on his hips.

She grinned at him. 'Hey, check it out. I'm a Guardian.'

* * *

**How did Lyssa get out into the Cosmodrome without her own Sparrow you ask? Well, either,**

**A) She flew, because Sunsingers are witches**

**B) She ditched her Sparrow to ride with Zavala**

**Frankly I would ditch a Ferrari in the Cosmodrome if that man roared up on a levitating motorbike and told me to hop on.**


	4. Chapter 4

_Piax, Late City Age_

'Guardian, we're here!'

The young woman with bright blue hair followed her chirruping Ghost out into a large, open space draped with flags. Even though it was broad daylight a huge moon-like structure hung over her right shoulder. 'The Traveler', her Ghost had called it. The little metal creature had brought her to this place, saying that it was her home now and she'd find people like herself here.

'This is the Tower? The place where the Guardians live?' She watched a group of warriors in long cloaks playing leapfrog. 'Are those Guardians?'

A black-haired man in armour who was passing overheard her and stopped. After peering at her dusty overalls and sunburned nose, he asked, 'Are you new? What's your name?'

She thought for a moment. 'Piax. Is that my name? Maybe I just made it up. Or did I read it on something?' She glanced around, looking for a gun or a can of beans or anything with  _Piax_  written on it.  _Beans. Do I like beans?_

'Welcome to the tower, Piax. How about I take you to the Vanguard and one of them can get you settled in.'

She started to follow him, and then stopped. 'Sorry, who are you?'

'I'm Josef.'

'But, um, what are you?'

He laughed. 'I'm a Guardian, like you. A Titan. There are three types: Titan, Warlock and Hunter. We're all a bit different, but we're all Guardians.' He have her a wink and said, 'Titans are the best, of course.'

'Oh? Why?'

He had a wide, lazy smile and Piax decided she liked him. She'd liked everything she'd seen so far.

'Titans are strong, dependable. We built the Walls and defend the city. And then there's the cool armour, which can take a lot of hits so you can get out there on the front line.' He spread his arms to show her his chest plate and gauntlets which shone brightly in the sunshine.

'Is it heavy?'

'A bit. You don't notice it after a while.'

He led her down a flight of stairs into a dark, cool room. A strange woman with a cloth tied over her eyes seemed to watch her somehow. A big man with a horn missing from his helmet and a fur ruff across his broad shoulders called out a cheerful greeting to Josef, who waved back. They walked next to a long table and Josef called out to a figure at the end.

'Commander, got a new one for you. Been telling her all about being a Titan and she can't wait to join up.' He thumped her shoulder. 'The commander's a Titan, too. See ya round, Piax.'

'Oh, bye!'

She turned back to the commander and smiled tentatively at him. He had his hands braced against the desk, looking at some charts, but he straightened and clasped his hands behind his back. Like Josef he wore armour, but the commander's was of a very different design, with a large red pauldron on one shoulder and some sort of bird emblazoned on his silver chest plate. His skin was blue, and when he looked at her there was light in his eyes.

_He's Awoken_ , a voice in her head informed her.

_Huh. I know what Awoken are. Interesting._

'Piax? I'm Commander Zavala. Welcome to the Tower.' Though he didn't smile there was warmth in his face and a quiet composure about him that appealed to her.

'Thank you. I've been walking alone for days and it's so good to be around people again.' She frowned. 'I mean, not again. Oh, I'm not sure what I mean.'

The commander didn't seem perturbed by this, and questioned her about the direction she come from and if she'd been attacked, and how many four-armed things called 'Fallen' she'd seen.

'Just two, but I'd found a rifle by then and shot them.' She gestured to the gun on her back. Her Ghost had explained to her that Guardians fought against such creatures and protected the Last City and its vulnerable citizens.

'Nicely done.'

_He's quite friendly, too. I think I'm going to like being a Guardian._  'I saw the Wall from a long way off when I was walking. Josef said Titans built it to protect the City?'

'That's right. The City means a lot to the Titans. We defend and protect as much as we hold the front line.'

He took her back out to the Plaza and pointed out the dwellings below and told her about the Traveler and how the City had changed over the cycles.

'It's so beautiful,' she murmured, looking at the houses and the mountains beyond, something stirring within her. 'I feel like I've been wandering forever, trying to reach this place. A lot longer than the few days that I've been alive.' She turned to him with a frown. 'Is that a memory? Some things feel familiar, like my name. Like knowing you're Awoken. But everything else is … hazy.'

'It could be a memory. No one knows why we forget some things and remember echoes of others.'

Piax looked at the strong lines of the commander's face and then out at the Walls and the City. There must be tens of thousands of people down there, people who called this place home. Some of them had probably wandered alone like her, desperate to reach this place without even a Ghost to help them. From her first glimpse of this place across the plains she'd felt it calling to her. What nobler cause than devoting her life to protecting it?

She turned to him. 'If the City means so much to you and the other Titans then I want to be a Titan, too.'

'Then you'll be very welcome. But there's no need to decide now. You'll learn more about the classes over the next few days and you'll start to feel an affinity for one of them. Ikora, the Warlock Vanguard, will assess your elemental abilities as well.'

But she'd already decided. She was going to be a Titan and the knowledge gave her a warm feeling as she looked out across the City.

He watched her in silence for a moment. 'I've got a few minutes to spare. Let me take you to the Speaker and then I'll find someone to get you settled in.'

* * *

_Zavala, Early City Age_

'I don't know why you can't see it. We're going to have an all out war between the Factions if we're not careful.' Saladin glared at Saint-14 as the Exo sat behind his desk.

Saint attempted a cheerful look, as cheerful as an Exo could look. But there was an edge to his voice as he said, 'Lord Saladin, there's no evidence for that, and in this matter it doesn't matter what you think, it matters what I think. I've told the Speaker it's just the usual tensions and rumblings and he agrees with me.'

At the back of the room leaning against the wall, Zavala scrubbed a hand over his face. Beside him Shaxx looked bored and annoyed. Zavala couldn't blame him. Saladin insisted the pair of them come to these meetings even though they had no influence over the outcome. Both of them would have preferred that Saladin led the Titans but he'd recommended Saint for the role and now it was too late.

Saladin wasn't done. 'How can you not see what's happening? Future War Cult's making everyone jumpy, New Monarchy's beating up rival Factions' scavengers, Dead Orbit don't give a mote about the City and Concordat's always prowling round like they want to own the place and us.'

From his place lounging to one side, Osiris said in his deep, lazy drawl. 'As long as Guardians are keeping the peace we've got nothing to worry about.'

'Buy they're not keeping the peace.' Zavala spoke up from the back of the room and everyone turned to look at him. 'Two Titans destroyed a Warsat the other day to prevent a scavenger getting hold of the data. When she confronted them about it they nearly shot her. '

'Well, Titans,' Osiris muttered, his lip curling, as if that explained everything.

Zavala felt his eyes narrow. Osiris was Saint's addition to these meetings, a Warlock to give a 'balanced view'. He'd nothing against Warlocks but he didn't like Osiris. Where did he go when he was absent from the City for days at a time, sometimes a week or more? He came back looking drained and sickly but oddly exultant, to Zavala's eyes at least.

But that was it. To take such a dislike to the man for those reasons alone seemed petty, and that frustrated Zavala as much as Osiris himself. He didn't like to think of himself as petty.

_Is it because of Lyssa? I've never been the jealous sort and I don't care if she has friends, a mentor. I want her to have friends. But why do I feel my hackles rising whenever I see her around Osiris?_

Saint looked at Zavala. 'I heard the story from the Titans themselves. A misunderstanding. Scavengers need to learn their place.'

'It wasn't a –'

But he was cut off as Saint turned to Osiris and began discussing other matters. In another ten minutes the meeting was over and Zavala and Shaxx followed Saladin out of the room. The Iron Lord was muttering to himself, his shoulders taught beneath his armour.

When they reached the open expanse of the Guardians' Hall Shaxx put a hand on his shoulder. 'You did all you could. You can't make them listen.'

Saladin covered Shaxx's hand with his own. 'Thank you. But it still frustrates me.' He glanced at Zavala. 'Do you think I'm wrong?'

Zavala shook his head. 'Something's brewing, and I don't think the right thing to do is to pretend it isn't.'

'I'm tired of this City. I miss the old days.' Saladin pulled away from Shaxx and stalked out into the square. Shaxx watched him go, hurt flickering over his face.

Zavala gestured after their mentor. 'Go after him. He could use a hug. Take his mind off things.'

But Shaxx scowled. 'I'll be in the armoury. Later.'

Zavala watched his friend's retreating back, unable to decide who was the more stubborn, Shaxx or Saladin. The two men loved each other but they'd never had an easy relationship. Saladin was often grouchy, though Shaxx seemed to be able to lift him out of his bad moods. Furthermore, Saladin had rank over Shaxx, something that Shaxx seldom showed respect for and which Saladin occasionally expected him to.

Why the two of them had thought it was a good idea to get involved Zavala didn't know. Thank the Traveler things with Lyssa were simpler. He'd never get involved with someone who reported to him or whom he reported to. It was asking for trouble.

* * *

**Thank you for reading! xxx**


	5. Chapter 5

**Some mild/moderate brief sexytimes coming up in this chapter. I wasn't going to include anything more than kisses in this story but the scene wandered into my mind. Enjoy!**

* * *

_Zavala, Late City Age_

'We've got a problem with that new Guardian.'

Zavala looked up from his datapad at Ikora and supressed a sigh. He'd been expecting this. Their memory loss was for a reason. A Guardian's life required dedication, not the pain of what had been. 'What's Andara done?'

'Not her. Piax. The new Titan.'

He frowned. 'Piax?' She seemed like the last person to cause trouble. Andara was going through a hard time and allowances had to be made, but his Titans did not go about creating problems. He would have to have words with her.

'She's still very firm that she wants to be a Titan, but she's exhibited very strong Solar abilities.'

Oh. That sort of problem. It was very rare for Titans to show Solar abilities and if they did they always found they were better suited to being a Warlock or a Hunter, or focusing on a different subclass. It would be a shame to lose Piax to Ikora or Cayde. She had a steady character and was already strongly attached to the City, two qualities he liked to see in his Titans.

In the old days it would have meant Piax training with the Sunbreakers but they'd been banished from the City long ago. Once, they approached him through Osiris asking to return but the terms were unacceptable to him.

Or was it Osiris who'd been unacceptable? Had he made the decision with the City's best interests at heart, or out of intense dislike and distrust of the Warlock?

The old pain welled up and Zavala fixed his eyes on the Vanguard table. He'd been right to distrust Osiris all along. He should have listened to his instincts. If he had things would have been very different.

'Zavala?'

Ikora's voice brought him back to the matter at hand and he felt irritation rise in his chest. Piax should just be a Warlock or a Hunter. Why be stubborn about it?

But that wasn't fair. If someone had tried to persuade him out of being a Titan he wouldn't have stood for it. This was where he belonged. This was who he was deep down, so why should it be any different for her?

'Does she show any other elemental tendencies?'

'Some Arc abilities. She's going to train as a Striker.'

Traveler's Light, then why bother him with this? 'So what's the problem?'

The Warlock's eyes widened slightly but her face didn't change. 'Oh. There's no problem, Zavala.' But there was a sardonic edge to her voice and she swept away, leaving him in no doubt of her true feelings on the matter.

 _She's never understood why I refuse to allow the Sunbreakers within these walls._  It wasn't her fault. She didn't understand because he'd never told her. It was hundreds of cycles since he and the Solar Titans had had any contact but time wouldn't heal the animosity between them.

It was regretful, because if Ikora was right about her abilities Piax should be trained with the Sunbreakers. Her natural talent would be wasted. In times like these the City would benefit greatly from a Sunbreaker within the Walls again. His mind raced with possibilities for her. New Fireteam strategies, missions that a Sunbreaker would burn through like paper.

But he squashed these thoughts. Training her Solar abilities wasn't possible. He and the Sunbreakers had severed all ties and Piax would just have to be a Striker.

* * *

_Zavala, Early City Age_

In bed with Lyssa in the middle of the afternoon. Who was he, being so decadent? Saladin or Saint were probably looking for him but with his blinds drawn down and just enough sunlight bleeding around the edges to see Lyssa's body he didn't much care.

It had been nearly two weeks since they'd shared their first kiss on his Sparrow and while they didn't fall into bed straight away it was quite soon after. He'd learned in the intervening days that Lyssa preferred to be on top, enjoying the upper hand it gave her and, Zavala suspected, because she liked showing off. Something else he found he didn't mind. Watching her and the motion of her hips as she brought herself off was a beautiful sight.

As she came she tipped her head back, as graceful as a swan, and then returned to him with a hard breath and a smile. She was flushed pink and her hair was tumbled around her.

_Lovely. But I think we can do better than that._

He put his hands on her waist and began bucking his hips beneath her, short, sharp movements that made her gasp in surprise. She was tipped forward and her hands landed on his chest. He didn't let up and she could do nothing, captured by his hands and the length of him inside her. A second climax began gathering within her and he saw it on her face as much as he felt it. She had a pleading, needful look, so different from the expression of ecstasy that she got when she was in control.

Her eyes drifted closed but he wasn't ready lose what he was seeing. 'Look at me, sweetheart.'

She opened her eyes and they were hazy and unfocused. She came with a rough cry, her nails digging into his collarbone and her climax pushed him over the edge. He pressed as deep into her as he could, twice, three times, revelling in the tight feel of her around him, and then finally released his hold on her.

She collapsed onto his chest, breathing hard into the curve of his neck. 'Oh, Traveler. You got me all flustered.'

He laughed softly, smoothing her hair back from her face. 'I like seeing you all flustered.' He enjoyed Lyssa's teasing looks and arch smiles, but Lyssa a little bit desperate, a little too flushed, was perfection.

She peeled herself up and looked at him through narrowed eyes. 'When do I get to see you all flustered?'

His eyes traced an appreciative path down her neck, over her breasts and to her belly. 'Who, me?'

'Always in control,' she said in a singsong way as she slid off him and reached for her clothes. He rolled onto his side and watched her dress, enjoying the sight of her wriggling into her underwear as much as he'd enjoyed stripping them off her.

Pulling on her undershirt, she asked, 'What are you going to do for the rest of the day?'

'Do? I wasn't going to do anything. I'm going to lie here. What are you going to do?'

'I promised Osiris I'd meet him.'

Zavala's good mood evaporated like a switch had been flipped and he sat up and reached for his breeches. Osiris had been absent from the City for a number of days. 'Oh. He's back then?'

Lyssa didn't catch his change of tone. 'Yes, this morning.'

Once Zavala had pulled some clothes on he still didn't feel like doing anything and sank back onto the bed, watching her fasten her Warlock bond to her arm. 'He goes away a lot. What does he do outside the walls?'

She frowned. 'Why do you ask? You sound like you disapprove.'

'No reason. Just curious.'

'He studies the Light. The Fallen. You'd be interested in what he has to say. Why don't you talk to him about it?'

Zavala scratched his chin. 'Could be an idea.'  _Terrible idea._ Zavala sensed that Osiris considered him to be an unpolished, punchy dimwit as much as he considered Osiris to be sneaking, arrogant and untrustworthy. Now that he was spending more time with Lyssa he was sure Osiris would like him even less. Osiris wasn't interested in Lyssa in that way, he was sure, but when the Warlock had spotted the two of them together he'd looked cross. Someone was playing with his favourite toy.

Noting how grouchy he suddenly felt he wondered if he wasn't as bad as Osiris. Lyssa's warm presence was so welcome in his life that he didn't feel much like sharing, either.

She planted a hasty kiss on his mouth as she left. 'I'll see you in the morning.'

'Bye.'

And Zavala was left with just the scent of her in his room, at a loss, for the first time he could recall, with what to do with himself.

* * *

_Zavala, Late City Age_

Titans had been wandering in and out of the Vanguard room all afternoon but now that it was getting dark outside they'd slowed to a trickle. Zavala had lost himself in one of Shiro's reports when he saw the gleam of armour and someone approaching. He straightened and clasped his hands behind his back. 'Report in, Guardian.'

It was Piax, and she looked pale and shaken. 'Hey, commander. I just came in from patrolling the Cosmodrome.' She told him about a three nests of Fallen she'd dispatched and then trailed off, looking a little green.

This would be her second solo patrol. 'Did something happen?'

She gestured at her abdomen with a shaky hand. 'I got cut up badly by a dreg. My guts sort of …' She made a flopping gesture and shuddered. 'It was pretty disgusting, and it was going to take me a long time to die so I shot myself in the head. I threw up, commander. Like, everywhere. For an hour.'

That was a particularly grisly way to die. He waited for her to compose herself, not wanting to offer either sympathy or dismissal.

She shook herself off and then smiled as if she was feeling better. 'All right. That's everything I had to tell you. Bye.'

He eyed her curiously, as he'd been certain Piax was about to ask him whether throwing up was normal and if the other new Guardians did it. It seemed she didn't want reassurance though, she just wanted to share what had happened to her.

He called her back. 'How are you finding being a Striker?'

The light in her eyes dimmed a little. 'Oh. It's good.' Then she nodded like she was trying to convince herself of something. 'It … feels more natural than being a Defender.'

He'd spoken to her Fireteam leader and she was a good Striker, getting out amid the enemy as was required of her class. She was growing more confident switching between a rifle and a shotgun as well. But he felt a twinge of regret just the same. She was doing everything he asked of her, and more, and he couldn't help but feel he was letting her down.

'You're doing well, Guardian. Go and relax now, you've earned it.'

A smile of such warmth broke over her face, like the sun coming out, and his twinge became a pang. She probably didn't even know about the Sunbreakers and what she was missing out on but that just made things worse somehow.

'Thank you, commander. Hey, Cayde, I like your cloak today.'

He watched her trip lightly up the stairs and out of sight, though his mind dwelt on her and the events of long ago well into the night.

* * *

**Zavala willing to lie about all afternoon in bed? Who even was he back then! Hope you're enjoying the story, leave me a comment if you are!**


	6. Chapter 6

_Andara, Early City Age_

'Head's up, Zavala.'

The Awoken man looked up in time to see a box of heavy ammo flying at his head. He caught it in his fist a split second before it smashed into his nose.

Andara snorted with laughter. 'Gotta work on those reflexes.' It looked like he was on gun inspection duty again and the trestle table outside Guardians' Hall was strewn with weapons.

Zavala regarded the ammunition in his hand. 'I caught it, didn't I? What's this for?'

'Just a thank-you for the other Warsat.' The grin faded from her face. 'I mean it. It was just where you said it was and now I've got a fast Sparrow and a place of my own. Things aren't as shitty as they usually are so I'm sharing the love.'

He threw the ammo back to her. 'No problem. Sorry about those Titans.'

That seemed to be the end of the conversation as he reached for an auto rifle and began dismantling it with deft movements. But Andara didn't want to go. He was all right, Zavala, and she'd realised this morning that giving her the Warsat coordinates was a much bigger deal than he'd made it out to be.

She opened her mouth to say that she owed him, and she meant it, but then she looked at the ammo in her hands. What if he threw her offer back at her as well? 'Okay, see you round.'

'Be careful out there.'

She rolled her eyes. 'Would you quit telling me to be careful?'

Zavala was peering along the rifle stock. 'Can't help it. Don't have to listen to me.'

Smiling again, she shook her head. All right, maybe he gave her the ammo back because he knew she needed it more than he did. But that didn't mean she couldn't offer something else. 'Look, if there's anything I can …'

But she trailed off as a tall, thin figure strode out of the hall and headed across the square. Her eyes followed him of their own volition and an ugly grey sensation snaked down her spine.

Fear.

Out of the corner of her eye she was vaguely aware that Zavala had stopped what he was doing. 'Andara?'

She'd never seen that man before in her life but her whole body was reacting like she was deathly afraid of him. A terrible sense of loss filled her, like he'd stolen something very dear to her and he was too powerful, too cruel, to ever give it back.

But that was impossible. She didn't have anything and never had. She didn't even know the man.

'Andara, are you all right?'

Zavala's voice followed her along the street as she ran in the opposite direction, the sick, horrified feeling still prickling down her spine.

* * *

_Andara, Late City Age_

Amanda Holliday stood up, wiping her greasy hands on a blackened rag. 'There you go, she's all yours.'

Andara stared at the Sparrow. She'd been looking around the hanger waiting for the blonde woman to finish what she was doing so she could show her where her vehicle was, not realising that this  _was_  the vehicle. 'This is my Sparrow? This one?'

'Yeah. Sorry it's not much. You'll be able to trade for a better one in time or you might find something in the field.'

This was ten times better than the Sparrow she'd had as a scavenger. The engine was far more powerful and the paintwork didn't have a scratch on it. She pressed the horn and it tooted cheerfully. 'Wow. Thanks.'

Amanda shrugged. 'It's all right. You're new, huh?'

'Kind of.' She didn't feel like explaining to everyone she met that she remembered her old life and the way the City used to be. So far she hadn't left the Tower to explore her old haunts and she wasn't sure she wanted to. Maybe it was better to leave her old life in the past and start fresh.

She was taking a last look around the hanger at all the neat, clean gear when someone caught her eye. Or rather, something. There was a man about twenty feet from her in the semi-darkness standing on a lower mezzanine. He had stringy black hair and bore the Dead Orbit insignia on his robes.

Ice seemed to crystallise in her veins. 'Hey. Who the fuck are you?'

One of the man's companions looked up and sneered at her. 'Watch your tongue Guardian.'

By her side Amanda said, 'He's Arach Jalaal, leader of Dead Orbit. They're—'

'I know who Dead Orbit are,' Andara seethed, and marched over to the railings towards the Arach. 'You're still here? You never left? You bunch of fucking cowards, it's been hundreds of cycles! I thought you'd all be long gone.'

The Arach looked up at her through cold, narrowed eyes. He didn't say a word but she had the feeling he knew exactly what she was talking about.

'I died for you, did you know that? So many people died for you, believing that the sacrifice they made for Dead Orbit was necessary and would be worth it in the end but you're  _still. Fucking. Here_.'

She wanted to spit at him. She wanted to hit him. How dare he wear that insignia and pretend that Dead Orbit actually stood for something? Their word was as worthless as all the other Factions' after all.

Someone touched her arm and through blurry eyes she saw they had engine oil under their nails, but she shrugged Amanda off and fled.

* * *

_Zavala, Late City Age_

'Hey, is Ikora around?'

Zavala looked up to see Amanda hovering at the end of the table. She seldom came into the Vanguard room but she was always a welcome sight, and he realised he hadn't seen her properly in weeks. Sometimes it felt like she'd grown up when he'd looked away for a minute and the little girl she'd once been was now a woman. 'No, but can I help?'

Amanda played with the frayed edge of her scarf. 'Maybe. I just wanted to tell her one of her new Warlocks might be losing it.'

A new Warlock. That could only mean Andara. 'Awoken, wears silver and yellow robes?'

Amanda's eyebrows rose. 'Yeah that's her. Been making a name for herself has she?'

'She's going through a difficult time. She's not caused you any problems has she?'

'No. I'm not ratting on her or anything, it was just … weird. She screamed at Arach Jalaal and then ran off in tears.'

The leader of Dead Orbit. Zavala thought he could guess why. 'Thanks for letting me know. I'll handle it.'

'Okay. Don't yell at her though. You're scary when you yell.' But Amanda said this with a grin as they both knew he'd never yelled at her.

When he was alone Zavala thought for a moment, and then headed out of the Vanguard room and into the Plaza. He spied Andara down by the railings and sitting on the grass, wiping her face but trying to look like she wasn't. She wouldn't welcome him talking to her right now as he would bring back too many memories from that time. But who might she talk to?

He glanced around the Plaza and saw Piax handing bounties over to Xander 99-40, her helmet under her arm. He walked over and waited for her to finish.

'Would you do something for me?' he asked when she turned around and saw him.

Piax brushed dried mud absent-mindedly from her hip. 'Of course, commander. What is it?'

He nodded at Andara. 'The Warlock over there. She's new like you and is having a difficult time. She could use a friend.' It was better if it was someone new who talked to Andara. Seasoned Guardians would barely remember how bewildering it was to arrive at the Tower, and there was something sincere about Piax that he thought Andara might like. As Shaxx might put it, she wasn't a bullshitter. He had a feeling Andara would respect that.

'I'll go talk to her.'

He called her back. 'Guardian. We don't know why but she can remember everything from her old life.'

Surprise flickered in Piax's eyes for a moment, but then she nodded. 'All right.'

'Thank you.'

She smiled her sunny smile at him, the one that made him feel uneasy and guilty, and he watched as she headed toward the Warlock sitting on the grass.

Despite her newness, Piax was a good Guardian and an excellent Titan, and Zavala felt just as much responsibility toward his Titans as he wanted them to feel toward him. He couldn't help but wonder, though, would she still smile at him like that if she knew about the Sunbreakers?

* * *

**I kind of love writing the commander? I hope you're enjoying the chapters in his voice, and the other parts too. Thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

_Piax, Late City Age_

The Warlock was sitting cross-legged on the ground and snapping blades of grass between her fingers. Piax regarded her in silence for a moment and then approached her. 'Hey, can I talk to you?'

The purple-haired young woman didn't look up. 'No.'

'All right, then.' Piax sat down a few feet away and looked at the view. A jumpship was coming into land and a Titan in jagged black armour materialised and headed over to the Gunsmith.

'I meant, piss off.'

'I can't. The commander asked me to talk to you.'

The Warlock's voice filled with scorn. 'He never could keep his nose out of other people's business.'

Piax looked at her curiously. 'You really can remember your old life then? Wow.'

'Yeah. Lucky me.'

A Hunter was walking tightrope fashion along the railings. He lost his balance and plummeted from the Tower with a yelp. A moment later his Ghost appeared and revived him safely back into the Plaza.

'I've tried to remember my old life. I want to, but I'm scared to at the same time,' Piax said.

'Don't worry. I don't think I'm catching.'

Piax snorted with laughter and looked around the courtyard. Commander Zavala was talking to the Cryptarch, his arms folded. 'Are you thinking about someone you lost? Is that why you were crying?'

The Warlock shook her head. 'There's no one that I love from back then. Maybe that's why I was crying.'

 _Oh. That's a thought. What if you could remember your old life and it was really miserable? I hadn't thought of that. But surely that means she should be happy she's got this new life now?_  But Piax suspected it wasn't as easy as that, and her heart went out to this unhappy young woman. 'You know what I think? I think we have make new memories. Love new people.'

'Aren't you Little Miss Sunshine.'

Piax kicked the Warlock's foot gently and grinned. 'And aren't you Miss Misery Guts. Come on, let's talk about something fun. What sort of Warlock are you training to be.'

'Sunsinger. Ikora's taught me some things and it's kind of … impressive?'

There was a glow on the woman's face and Piax felt a stab of jealousy. She'd been so excited when Ikora had told her about her Solar abilities and how strong they were. To be good at something would give her a focus and then everything else would fall into place. But then the Warlock had told her she couldn't be a Solar Titan as they couldn't train her. There weren't any Solar Titans in the City. Even the commander himself didn't know their secrets.

Her envy must have shown on her face because the Warlock gave her a quizzical look.

'I wanted to be a Solar Titan but they don't know how to train me. There aren't any apparently, or there never were. I'm not sure which. I'm training as a Striker instead.' She was surprised to feel a lump in her throat. Striker was fine. What was there to be sad about?

'I'm sorry.'

'Oh, thanks. That's nice of you to say so considering what you're going through.' She watched the commander bid farewell to the Cryptarch and head back into the Vanguard room.

'What was the commander like back then? You said you knew him. '

'Zavala? Well he wasn't the commander then and he didn't look so fancy. I think he ran some things. Seemed to know everyone and what was going on. Was still a big grump, though.'

'He's not a grump. He's just got a lot of responsibility.' She let this rest on the air, hoping her companion would keep talking. She didn't. 'What did he run?'

The Warlock flopped back onto the grass. 'How should I know? I was a Dead Orbit scavenger. The Guardians treated me like I was something disgusting to wipe off their boots.'

Piax looked out at the City for a few minutes. Then she said softly, 'He never treated you that way. I won't believe it.'

The Warlock wrinkled her nose. 'All right. Not Zavala. He was okay, but the rest of them were jerks.'

Piax lay down too and settled her hands over her belly. 'How was he good to you?'

'I don't know. Talked to me like a person. Maybe it's because we're both Awoken or something.'

'I don't think it was because of that.'

The Warlock rolled her head to one side and peered at Piax. 'Oh? You're very curious about him.'

She kept her eyes carefully fixed on a vapour trail overhead. 'Am I? I've just never had a commander. That I can remember. What do you think of Ikora?'  _Does she make you feel like the world's a bit less frightening with her in it? Do you think about her all the time and want to make her proud? Does returning to the Tower feel like coming home because you know she's here?_

The Warlock shrugged. 'She's pretty cool. I like her.'

_Huh. Maybe it's just Titans who feel that way about their Vanguard leader then._

They were silent a long time, and then the Warlock started talking. 'He was different back then. They all were, the ones I knew, at least. A bit scruffier in their mismatching armour, and kind of … looser. They weren't in charge of anything then. Just Guardians like you and me. Shaxx, that one who runs the Crucible? He was always play-fighting and laughing and shouting. There was some other lord or something that he was close to, and I know he's around somewhere because I've heard people talk about him but he doesn't come to the City anymore. I saw Zavala smile once or twice. Even saw him kissing someone a few times. Can you imagine?'

The commander kissing someone. The commander smiling. Piax wished she knew what that looked. He'd almost smiled at her on a couple of occasions when she'd smiled at him. But not quite. 'Just those three you remember? No one else?'

The Warlock squinted up at the sky. 'There are a couple of other familiar faces, maybe. But yeah. Everyone else is new.'

'But what happened to them all?'

'I think they're probably dead.'

Piax sat up. Dead? Guardians could die? 'But we're immortal.'

'Immortal unless we're killed. There's a difference. Ikora said it had something to do with draining our Light but I'm hazy on the details.'

Piax couldn't believe how off-hand she sounded about it. She didn't want to dwell on it now though as the Warlock seemed like she'd cheered up a bit. She'd ask the commander about it next time she saw him. 'I'm supposed to go and see someone called Amanda Holliday about flying lessons. Want to come?'

'Was that Zavala's suggestion too?'

'No. It's mine.'

The Warlock was silent for a moment. Then she smiled up at Piax. 'I, um, I might skip it. I just acted really weird in front of Amanda. But thank you for talking to me.'

'Of course. Any time.'

'It's, ah, Andara. My name.' Then the Warlock scowled as if expecting Piax to laugh at her.

'Piax. Good talking to you, too. And don't worry, we're all a bit weird here, I think.'

* * *

_Lyssa, Early City Age_

Lyssa looked up from her spot nestled into to the crook of Zavala's arm to see that he was still frowning at the ceiling. He'd been like that for ten minutes now and she bit down on a smile. 'Mote for your thoughts, serious man?'

His face cleared and glanced down at her. 'Just thinking about that Dead Orbit scavenger. The one from a few weeks ago who went after the Titans. She was talking to me the other day, perfectly normally, and then she spotted someone and suddenly looked … very strange.'

Lyssa turned over in bed and rested her chin on his chest. 'Who?'

Zavala seemed to zone out again, and she prodded him. 'Hm?'

'Who did she see?'

'Oh. Not sure. Then she ran away like the Fallen were coming for her and I haven't seen her since.'

Lyssa smiled, because it was so like Zavala to be concerned about someone he barely knew. 'You're good to worry about her.'

He shrugged one heavy shoulder. 'Oh. Well, the less problems there are the more we can get done.'

'Yes, it's not because you care at all.' She kissed him, and whispered softly, 'I love you.'

Zavala's eyes widened, and there was a pause that seemed to go on forever.  _Oh, shit. He's not going to say it back._  She sat up, stricken, and gathered the sheets about her. 'Um, forget I said that.'

But the words hung in the air like a big ugly banner over them and he still wasn't saying anything. Feeling horribly vulnerable about her nakedness all of a sudden she scrambled out of bed. 'I just remembered, I have to go.'

'Wait, Lyssa.'

She pulled her clothes on quickly, still draped in the sheet, not wanting him to see her.

'Please, sweetheart. Look at me. You just caught be by surprise.'

She threw him a tentative glance over her shoulder and saw he was sitting on the edge of the bed.  _Then say it now. Please. I know it hasn't been very long but you must feel it too. The way you look at me, the way you make me feel. It can't all be in my head._

But he still wasn't saying anything and the awful reality crashed over her. He didn't love her. It would be better to leave right now while she still had a shred of dignity but she still hoped. 'Have you ever even considered it? That you might one day?'

He looked at her for a long time. She could see him thinking. Analysing.  _This isn't a battleground strategy_ , she wanted to snap at him.  _You either know or you don't._

Finally, he shook his head. Her eyes smarted with pain and she headed for the door.

He went after her. 'Wait, Lyssa, please.'

She fended him off. 'I'm not going to stay just because you feel bad, Zavala.'  _I actually didn't consider that he wouldn't love me. When did I get so arrogant?_

'You're very dear to me, Lyssa. More dear than anyone else, or anyone has been.'

'I don't need to be placated. I'm not a child.'

He took a deep breath. 'I know you're not. I'm trying to explain how I feel.'

She waited, her hand on the door handle.  _Then explain. Give me something. You always seem to know how to make things right, so fix this, please._

'I suppose I don't think love is for us.'

She rubbed her thumb over the door handle, hard, and then again. It hurt but she kept doing it. 'What do you mean, not for us? You and me?'

'No. All of us. Guardians.'

Turning slowly, she looked at him. His eyes were bleak and troubled as they searched her face. 'That's really sad you feel that way,' she said.

'Can I tell you what I do feel?' He put out his hand, palm up. An offering. She took it, and he drew her down until they were sitting on the edge of the bed. She lay her cheek on his shoulder and put her hand against his chest so her fingers just rested in the hollow of his collarbone. This was her favourite place in the world but it didn't give her the comfort that it usually did.

He spoke softly. 'When I'm not with you I think about you all the time. How I want to make you happy. Ways to make you smile. I think about your smile a lot.'

She squeezed her eyes shut tight and drank in the sound of his voice like warmth from the sun.

'You make me so happy, sweetheart.'

Until ten minutes ago she would have said the same thing. She wished she'd never opened her mouth and pushed them into this awful place.

'I don't know if that means anything to you, or whether we just want different things. I'm so sorry,' he finished.

She burrowed into his chest, wishing she could take back everything she'd said. The thought of losing him seemed worse than not being loved by him. 'I don't know either.'

* * *

_Zavala, Early City Age_

After Lyssa left him Zavala got up and ran his eyes along the spines of a dozen books that were sitting on a shelf. They were very old and seemed fade and crumble a little more every time he picked them up. Treatise on military strategy and philosophy, many written well before the Golden Age; well before the Awoken were ever thought of. That period fascinated him for it's primitiveness and also its intelligence. People seemed to strive for so much with so little. Maybe they reminded him a little of the state of humanity now, but back then they had everything to look forward to, and in his time they had … what? It could be that there was only suffering ahead of them.

It took all his strength to believe that things could be better and that didn't leave a lot for anything else. He'd considered love at one point, reading all he could on the matter, and finally he made up his mind: love was a pre-Golden Age construct to facilitate the joining of assets and ensuring stable family units. Love was an anachronism to be discarded, or at least to be put aside until better times. Even then it wasn't for Guardians, who had nothing but their weapons and could bear no children. Neatly defined and boxed up he'd put love aside where it couldn't bother him.

But then, Lyssa.

Her pain hurt him. He'd meant it when he said she was very dear to him. But in the harshest possible terms, when Lyssa professed that she loved him what did she think was the point? What did she imagine would change for them, if anything? What did it mean? And if he couldn't give her what she needed then he would have to end it with her.

But when he thought about giving her up great well of sadness opened up his chest, and he felt like a child, lost in the dark. Why couldn't he have her? She was everything to him and the thought of losing her was a pain like he'd never known before. Was that love? Did he love her even as he told himself he didn't? He wanted to scoop this feeling out of himself and lay it like an offering at her feet.  _This is what I feel for you, sweetheart. Is it enough? Do you still want me?_

His hand fell from the spines of the books. He didn't have the answers but he knew he didn't want to give her up.

_Please let it atone, that I feel this. Please let it atone and let me not hurt her._


	8. Chapter 8

_Piax, Late City Age_

Her first flying lesson with Amanda Holliday didn't involve getting airborne at all. Instead, she and the blonde woman went all over a ship together, talking about how it worked and which lever did what. Piax had sat in the pilot's seat memorising the take-off and landing procedures as Amanda talked her through them.

'That's probably enough for today. Don't want to melt your brain.' Amanda gave her an appraising look as they headed back out into the hanger. 'How are you finding it all then?'

Piax dragged her eyes away from the jumpship. She was getting one of these? To fly by herself? 'Being a Guardian? It took me a while to get used to the dying part, but I have now. You know how it is.'

Amanda laughed. 'Oh, I'm not a Guardian, I'm just a jumpship junkie. I was always hanging around up here from when I was an ankle-biter. The engineers kept kicking me out but Zavala took pity on me and got one of them to take me on as an apprentice. Here, take this schematic to study and come see me in a couple of days and we'll take a ship out.'

As she wandered out of the hanger and back into the plaza Piax thought about what she'd told Amanda, that she was used to the dying part. It was only a half-truth. It didn't make her sick anymore even when she died in the most gruesome ways, but she became troubled by the mechanics of it now and then. For example, what would happen to you if someone wanted to cause you pain and you couldn't even escape by dying? What if they wanted to hurt you over and over and there was nothing you could do about it, ever?

She wrinkled her nose, and walked deliberately into the sunshine so it would burn off these dark thoughts.

It worked, because it wasn't like her to get dragged under by these things. But she knew that how? She'd only been 'her' for a few weeks but her mind was filled with furniture, even if it wasn't filled with memories. She knew that sometimes her mind took her to dark places, but she also knew she didn't like to dwell there. It was enough to acknowledge that it was a strange thing, being a Guardian, and not to expect that such a life would be easy, or necessarily happy.

But she'd try to make it so.

It was nice to think about Amanda being small and getting under people's feet, and the commander seeing to it that her curiosity was put to good use. It also gave her a warm feeling that he'd asked her to talk to Andara because she was upset. In the silent early morning hours she'd wondered if she and the other Guardians were little more than meat weapons. It was reassuring that she reported to someone who took care not to see people that way. She made a note to tell him about that at some point. As long as he didn't give her a strange look for calling herself a meat weapon.

Once she'd been around for hundreds of cycles she'd probably have made peace with all her weird thoughts, but until then she'd have to live with them.

She'd had a weird thought when Andara had told her she'd seen the commander kissing someone way back when the City was young.  _Have I kissed anyone? Have I ever been to bed with anyone?_  The strangest thing about losing all your memories was finding out things that your muscles knew. The things your skin remembered. The first time she'd picked up a rifle its heft had been familiar. Cherries were her favourite fruit and she'd known that even before she'd put one in her mouth. This morning she'd felt like turning cartwheels on the grass, and had executed three in a row, perfectly. Closing her eyes she tried to imagine someone's mouth on hers, and suddenly she saw, very clearly, herself putting her arms around the commander's neck and tilting her mouth up to his so he could kiss her. And he did, his large hands on her waist and his full mouth very soft against hers.

Warmth flooded through her.  _Oh. That's nice._

She focused her gaze and frowned at the Cryptarch's awning, because while it was nice it was also a bit … weird. The commander was such a pleasant, steady presence in her life that she couldn't help but like and respect him. He was very good looking, too, something she'd noticed from the first time she saw him. Every time she saw him, in fact. The sound of his voice resonated down to her toes and filled her with a liquid honey feeling. She could imagine his hands caressing the nape of her neck and pulling her tightly against his hard chest. How she'd rise up on her toes and open her mouth to his. How his deft fingers would seek out the fastenings on her clothes –

_Okay. I think I've been to bed with someone before. Question answered._

She turned her attention to what she'd learned about jumpships and all the things Amanda Holliday had told her about take-offs and landings. She focused very hard on mundane things, trying to keep the pleasing images at bay.

_Cleaning rifles. Eating porridge. Walking for hours with a blister on your big toe._

_The commander sucking on your nipples. Moaning his name. Running your nails down his naked chest._

For some reason she found it easier to put aside the dark thoughts than the pleasing ones.  _Oh dear. This is awkward. This is very awkward._  She had to work with him and it would be hard to listen to him and talk to him if she was thinking about him as a man and not as her commander. Instinct told her that he wouldn't be at all interested in her in that way either because she'd been around for about as long as a fruit fly. Everything was so new to her and how dull that must be to someone who's about a five hundred cycles old. It was fine saying 'I feel like a meat weapon' to your commander, but to someone whom you want to think of you as desirable and interesting? Traveler, boring  _and_  weird.

Even if he was attracted to people who wondered if they were meat weapons and who had to stand in the sunshine to feel okay about dying, she doubted that the Vanguard went about bedding the Guardians. There were probably rules about that sort of thing. Unwritten ones at least. He seemed the sort to have lots of those.

Piax unfolded the schematic and studied it with a hard frown.  _I'll just have to stop thinking about him in that way. It's part of being a Guardian, forgetting things, so I'll just forget I thought about him in that way in the first place._

_How hard can it be?_

* * *

**Oh yes, Piax, it's perfectly easy. You'll have no trouble forgetting all about any of this.**

**Tune in for Chapter 9: Piax Hasn't Forgotten.**


	9. Chapter 9

_Lyssa, Early City Age_

A walk was needed. A long walk, because she did her best thinking on her feet. She thought even better while she was fighting but Osiris wanted her on patrol in a few hours when some other Warlocks came in from the Cosmodrome, not now, so she would have to wait.

Lyssa didn't get out into the parts of the City devoted to each of the Factions very often and she was interested to see how many flags and logos had been put up since her last visit. Above houses. In the markets. Emblazoned on armour. It was a show of Faction pride, but there was something aggressive about it she didn't like. The flags seemed to eclipse every other sort of decoration and she wondered why they felt the need to proclaim their allegiance so strongly. It made her uneasy.

She was walking through the Dead Orbit sector when she spotted a familiar face. The Dead Orbit scavenger with purple hair that Zavala had mentioned, studying a piece of paper in her hand.

'What's that you've got?' Lyssa asked, approaching her.

The Awoken young woman looked up, the light blazing in her eyes. 'Oh. Hey. I've seen you with Zavala, haven't I?'

'Yes. I'm Lyssa.'

'Andara.' She scowled and brandished the paper so Lyssa could see it.

DEAD ORBIT WANT TO LEAVE. GIVE THEM A HELPING HAND. The accompanying image showed a group of armoured people forcibly ejecting Dead Orbit members from the City. Some lay on the ground as if dead.

'Oh, Traveler. I'm so sorry.'

Andara ripped the paper up and threw the pieces away. 'Whatever. We're not the only targets. I've seen flyers attacking Concordat and New Monarchy too, and yesterday somebody burned down a tavern where Future War hang out.'

A fire. So that had been the cause of the smoke hanging over the City early this morning. 'Does Saint know?'

'Who the hell is Saint?'

Lyssa stared for a moment. Spending most of her downtime in the Guardians' Hall made her forget that people out here in the City didn't necessarily care about the same things she did. Seeing all these flag drove it home – they didn't even share the same values.

'Sorry. Saint leads the Guardians.'

'Is he going to wave a magic wand and make everything better?' Andara turned away with a roll of her eyes.

If she hadn't seen the look of pain and frustration in the young woman's eyes when she'd told Zavala about the Warsat that she'd lost it would be tempting for Lyssa to dismiss Andara as having an attitude problem. She went after her and fell into step beside her. 'Wait a sec. The Guardians want to help. We're not all like those Titans.'

Andara ground her teeth and looked to one side, as if she didn't like being seen in the streets with the likes of Lyssa. 'I know,' she muttered. 'But there's nothing you can do. Now leave me alone.' She doubled the lengths of her strides, and Lyssa let her go.

She headed back to Guardians' Hall with a lower mood than when she set out, and when she saw Zavala under the walkway that let to the dorms her heart seemed to lodge in her throat. They hadn't talked properly since he'd told her that he couldn't love her, and she had a feeling he was giving her space to figure out what she wanted to do.

She still didn't know, but her feet seemed to lead her over to him. When he saw her he paused, giving her a chance to talk to him if she chose to. His expression was carefully neutral but she thought there was hope in his eyes.

When she was close enough she put a tentative hand on his arm. Slowly, both of them moving like they might frighten the other but in too much need to stop, they embraced.

'Sweetheart.' He smoothed her hair back from her face and looked down at her. 'I've missed you. Have you … do you want to talk about it?'

She wouldn't lie to Zavala or pretend that it hurt her, him telling her that he couldn't, or didn't know how to, love her. Maybe it was a redundant emotion for Guardians, like he'd said. Or maybe not. When she looked into his eyes she saw so much tenderness there, but wariness, too, and she wondered if despite this gift of power and immortality he still felt he wasn't enough. It wasn't that he seemed to want more power, but what he had made him paradoxically aware of his short-comings.

It made her want to shake him, but it was what made her love him, too. Though perhaps it would be better if she didn't. There wasn't much leftover when your energies were always directed out there, at the City, and no matter how much he did it would never be enough to fix all their problems.

 _Did he know that it would never be enough?_  she wondered.  _Or would he discover that only after he'd failed the high standards he'd set for himself, over and over?_

She kissed him, and whispered, 'My feelings are still what they were, and they won't change. I don't think the way you do, about everything at once. I'm focused on today and the tasks ahead of me whereas you're always looking ahead. I don't think either way is wrong. Just different.'

He took a shuddering breath. 'I feel like the worst sort of person, asking if you still want to be with me.'

'You give so much. Never doubt that I know that.'

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against hers. They stood like that for a moment, and then he asked her what she was doing for the rest of the day.

'I'm heading out on patrol shortly,' she said, 'But we could see each other when I come back?'

'I'd like that.' Something must have flickered in her face, because he asked, 'Is there something else on your mind?'

'Not really …' She trailed off, chewing her lip. 'Yes. The Factions. I was talking with Andara earlier, that Dead Orbit scavenger you were worried about?' She told him about the violent flyers, about all the flags and emblems appearing, the fire.

Zavala looked thoughtful. 'She thinks it was lit deliberately? No, I don't think Saint knows. Thank you for telling me, I'll look into it.' He frowned at her. 'Sweetheart, what's wrong?'

'Nothing. I've got to go get changed, and you're probably busy.'

But he caught her hand and gently drew her back to him, and studied her face. 'Tell me, please.'

She shrugged and was silent a moment. 'It just brought home to me how dependent on these people we are, and if they blow up around us how will we keep the City safe? There are so many refugees pouring in.'

He nodded. 'I have thought the same. Saladin and I are meeting with the Faction leaders this week to see if we can to help figure out their differences.'

He didn't say it will be okay or don't worry. He knew their lives were precarious, and that understanding was more reassuring than pretty words. She tilted her face up to his. 'All right. Thank you.'

'Do you want to come to meet the Factions with Saladin and I?'

'Yeah. I think I do actually.'

'I'll let you know when we go. Have a good patrol, and be careful out there, all right?'

She smiled, and rose up on her toes to give him one last kiss. 'Me? Careful? Of course.'

* * *

_Piax, Late City Age_

Piax looked up from fiddling with her rifle to see Andara slinking across the Plaza.

'Where have you been?' She was impatient to get going as they were heading out today to a new area. Her Fireteam leader had explained that when the newer Guardians were sent into tougher regions they liked to pair them up at first, so she'd suggested to Andara that they go together.

Andara scowled and didn't meet her eyes. 'Nowhere. Why?'

'Uh, because you're late? And why did you come out of the Titan tower?'

The Warlock shrugged angrily. 'I slept in and I went the wrong way. What's with all the questions? Let's go. No, wait I need to –'

A voice floated across the Plaza. 'Hey, Warlock. Have a good night, Warlock?'

Piax saw a Titan swaggering across the plaza toward them, his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his greaves. Yul, that was his name. He was nearly as large as Lord Shaxx and was grinning broadly.

Andara's face burned and she swore under her breath.

Yul saw Piax standing next to Andara and grinned even more broadly. 'Hey, Titan, when's you're turn? We're all keeping score you know. Can't make us wait forever.'

Turning to Andara, Piax asked, 'What the hell is he talking about?'

The Warlock looked like she was about to commit a murder. 'Nothing,' she said savagely.

Andara came out of the Titan dorms. Something clicked in Piax's brain. 'Hang on. Did you sleep with Yul?'

'No I fucking didn't! I slept with Josef, and it seems it took him about three seconds to tell Yul. Can you fucking believe it?'

'Hey.' Yul had stopped dead and his voice held an aggressive note. He was glaring at Piax. 'I'm talking to you, ice queen. Don't think we haven't noticed you're too stuck up to talk to us.'

Piax narrowed her eyes and turned her back to him. She talked to plenty of Guardians, just not him. And nothing would induce her to talk to him now. 'Shall we go?'

She waited for Andara to refasten her Warlock bond. 'Yes. No, I promised I'd look in with Ikora before we headed out.'

As they walked into the Vanguard room Piax whispered, 'Josef seems all right. Maybe Yul just saw you coming out of his room?' Josef was the first Guardian she'd ever talked to, a big, friendly Titan who'd spoken so fondly of the City and Zavala.

'I don't want to talk about it,' Andara growled.

Piax cast her eyes to the ceiling. Oh,  _fine_. While Andara talked to Ikora she decided to go check in with Zavala. She was standing behind another Titan waiting her turn. Too late, she noticed it was Yul.

* * *

_Zavala, Late City Age_

Yul turned away from him and noticed Piax standing behind him. She looked up at the other Titan, her face tense.

The tall man nodded to her. 'Ice queen. Later.'

Piax coloured up as she moved around the Titan to talk to Zavala. When Yul had walked off, he asked, 'What did he mean by that?'

'Nothing.'

He waited, just looking at her, trying to gauge whether he'd just witnessed some banter or something more insidious. It seemed to take a lot to upset Piax so he wondered if it might be the latter.

She made a dismissive gesture. 'Oh, you know. Sometimes people have nothing to do but talk about each other in this place. I'm fine'

Ice queen. He known that Titan for a dozen cycles and he could well imagine what Yul had meant by that. He could be a cruel bastard and would never leave the new Guardians alone.

Piax was trying so hard not to look angry that for a moment she reminded him of Lyssa. She used to pretend she was fine when she wasn't, too.  _You've got enough to worry about._  She'd said that so often, especially toward the end. How he'd hated it. But usually he'd been able to draw her worries out of her, and talking always seemed to make Lyssa feel better. Then he'd would coax her mouth up to his and kiss her, and lead her into the shadows and do things to draw cries from her lips and then a hard, clenching orgasm.

Zavala shifted on his feet.  _Oh yes, stellar mentoring technique. One of your Titans is upset and you're thinking about sex._  It wasn't that Piax looked like Lyssa or was like her in personality, but she did remind him of the sort of women of whom he'd used to be fond. Good-hearted and resilient, but like anyone still able to be hurt. How satisfying it had been when Lyssa had shared that vulnerability with him and he'd been able to make her smile again and feel good in his arms. Then she'd go out and take down a field full of Fallen, which she was perfectly able to do without his encouragement but the difference was that she'd come back with a smile on her face.

_But you're Vanguard leader now and you're meant to do that without taking them to bed first._

What had Piax said?  _When we're not fighting people have nothing to do but talk about each other._  That gave him an idea.

'Has anyone told you about Lady Jolder?'

'Lady who?'

'She was a Titan, back before the City was even thought of. One of the first Risen.'

Piax looked interested. 'A Titan? I don't hear many stories about – you're all –' She broke off with a rueful smile.

 _You're all men_ , she was going to say. All of the Titans in leadership roles were men. All the Vanguard leaders until Ikora were men. Even Piax's Fireteam leader was a man, but a fair few weren't. 'Long ago Lord Saladin, up at Felwinter Peak, was part of a team of Iron Lords who defended the people against those who abused their powers. Lady Jolder was one of them. She was very beautiful and very brave, so people liked to talk about her.'

'What did she do when she didn't like that?'

He considered this for a moment.

'Did she hit them?'

Zavala almost smiled. 'Sometimes. But mostly she said what she wanted and felt what she wanted and didn't worry what anyone thought of her.'

He saw in his mind's eye Jolder perched on a rock in full armour, using a sword blade for a mirror and outlining her eyes with a stick of kohl; one of the Iron Lords laughing and saying she was going to put her helmet on anyway so what was the point?

_I don't wear it for them, I wear it for me. Zavala, you want some too? It'll make all the difference today. Good man. Sit there, look up and try not to blink._

'Did you know her?'

'Briefly. But I remember her well. She taught me a lot, about never shying away from what was difficult or distressing.' He nodded at someone over her shoulder. 'I think Andara's waiting for you. Did you have something to report?'

She told him about a Taken Lieutenant she'd ran into in Old Russia, her face clear and bright now, and then she bid him goodbye.

'Have a good patrol, Titan.' Zavala watched her go, and was satisfied to see that she looked lighter and her back was straighter. Yes, it was nice being able to do that again.

Then he frowned down at his datapad. Again? He did this sort of thing dozens of times a day.

Before he turned back to his reports he thought about the old days for a few minutes, hearing Jolder's voice in his head as if she hadn't been dead for hundred of cycles. Her jokes. Saladin's mock-severity.

_Zavala, the stories I could tell you about your mentor. You'd turn purple._

_Jolder._

_Oh, I'm just teasing, my big Iron Grump._


End file.
